Love and Duty
by ZurEnAarh
Summary: [HIATUS/UNDER REVISION] After being discharged from the Ark Guard, Eve is sent to Earth with 100 criminals. As long as she keeps her head down, they won't see her as anything other than their own. But that all changes when a former cadet manages to join them. Someone that knows who she is and hates everything she stands for. Will she suffer his wrath or give in to what he offers?
1. Time for Goodbyes

**All rights go to the writers of the TV show _The 100_ and film _The Chronicles of Riddick_ for my OC's name. This is M-rated for profanity, graphic violence, and sexual content. Warnings will be placed accordingly at the beginning of each chapter. Also, this story MIGHT become a mild crossover with the TV show Vikings in the future, but that will definitely be after season one. Full author's note will be located at the bottom of every chapter.**

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 **1**

 **TIME FOR GOODBYES**

A ray of light glinted across Eve's placid face as she stared at the twelve-inch knife twirling between her nimble fingers. She tilted her head, falling deeper into her quietude. And for a moment, the weight in her stomach lifted.

But only for a moment.

"Are you ready?" came a familiar voice.

She glanced over her shoulder. Councilman Marcus Kane stood at the doorway of her room, leaning against the doorframe with arms folded across his chest. His dark-blue uniform shirt wrinkled at the sleeves.

Eve gave him a once over before turning away.

"Always," she replied. She dragged the soft pad of her fingertip along the edge of the blade as a final inspection, and in result, calloused skin scraped off the top layer with ease.

 _Still as sharp as ever_ , she thought with a pleased smile.

She slipped the knife into the sleeve pocket within her boot and patted at the sides. Then she turned toward the metal band resting atop her bare mattress where a pair of protruding prongs awaited her wrist. She glared at them with distaste.

Why'd it had to be needles? She hated needles.

Taking a deep breath, Eve brought the contraption over the area below her hand.

 _It's just an inch of metal_ , she rationalized, ignoring the points pricking into her delicate skin. _It'll hurt for only a second._

She clenched her jaw, bracing herself when Marcus's voice appeared again.

"Allow me." Steps echoed within the small unit until they came to a stop. Marcus's dark-brown eyes stared at her with an unreadable expression before dropping to the device. "It's easier if someone else does it," he said, holding out his hand.

She eyed him for a moment, wondering if he'd go as far as to destroy one of the last remaining wristbands, just to keep her from leaving. His opposition against the Council's decision to send her to Earth couldn't have been more adamant; for a year he argued at every Council meeting that she could be a valuable asset to the Ark for when Order would fall under martial law. They assured him that nothing of the sort would happen, but for a man like Marcus Kane, who was more of a glass-half-full kind of guy, he could see no other outcome than chaos consuming their modicum of civilization.

He'd never admit it, but he knew as much as the Council that she'd be more of a liability than an advantage. After she increased the residential searches last year, she'd lost favor in many parts of the ship and had become one of the most hated officers on the Ark. They did well to be rid of her.

But they needed her, he'd said.

The Council heard his words and then responded in the same manner as they'd done for the past three years: a slam of the gavel and an execution date to top it off.

And now - Marcus Kane, a man of conviction and resilience, stood before his adopted daughter with the knowledge she'd be stuffed into a decrepit shuttle and hurtled through space until she landed on Earth. A planet still recovering from its nuclear ruination ninety-seven years ago.

Even if he did sabotage her bracelet, the Council would still send her down along with a hundred criminals. Most of which would love her head on a platter. Her demise was inevitable. They both knew it.

She handed over the wristband.

With a crude click, the clamps closed around the small of her wrist, and the needles found a new home.

She managed to stifle a yelp, but Marcus still raised an eyebrow at the pained look on her face. "That _hurt_ ," she said in her defense, rubbing at the area.

"I've seen you handle worse." She rolled her eyes at him, and before she could step away, he grabbed her by the wrist. With a slow turn of her arm, he observed a set of green, blinking lights built into the band. "These lights indicate vital sign readings," he explained. "They'll show the Ark that you're still alive. If by some miracle the ground is safe, make sure these are always on."

She stared at the lights for a moment as she imagined her vital signs on display next to a hundred others in the control room. All blinking red the moment they landed on Earth while the crew watched a hundred people die from radiation poisoning.

Eve shook the image from her head and then nodded.

"Yes, sir," she replied, meeting his firm gaze. His stoic demeanor held for a few more seconds before it melted and she found herself facing the grieving man beneath. An invisible hand plunged into her chest and squeezed at her heart.

On the rarest occasions, she'd seen the softer side of Marcus's reticence, and she hated that it'd chose this moment to rear its emotional head. She needed strength, now more than ever, and if his next words involved anything short of inspiration or courage, she knew her resolve would crumble.

Without another word, she turned away and then went around to the metal chair that rested near the head of the bed. Her eyes fell to the dark-tinted jacket slouched over the frame, the one she'd left out for today's classified event. The polyester fabric felt cold against her skin as she shrugged it over her shoulders, and her long, dark tail of hair landed with a pat as she pulled it out from under. To the casual observer, the hooded garment resembled a regular flight jacket produced on the Ark, a makeshift piece of outerwear with incorporated patches and zippers for seams. However, in light of her soon-to-be home, she installed a thin holster in the front, a pocket in the back, and slits in the sleeve and shoulder end.

A bit much, she admitted, but she was going to be a sheep dressed in wolf skin among the others, and if anyone caught her scent, she'd be done for. So any means of defense or escape was welcomed.

The thought of running off once the ship landed had crossed her mind. She could find safety and wait for the Ark to follow...but Eve made promises. The kind that couldn't be broken. The Chancellor asked her to protect his son Wells Jaha, as well as Clarke Griffin - the Head Doctor's daughter, during her time on the ground, and considering he'd been the one to secure her spot on the ship instead of having her expelled into space...she didn't try declining.

Running and hiding wasn't her style anyway.

"I know you feel that you need to do this," Marcus's calm voice filled the room again. She continued preparing as if he hadn't spoken, reaching beneath her pillow for the loaded gun she'd acquired with a few favors and ass-kissing. It slid into her holster with a soft click. His light footsteps grew closer behind her. Tugging at the end of her jacket and double-checking the pockets, she pretended to be busy, hoping he wouldn't continue. "But I want you to know that you don't have to."

Eve stopped, a hand still in her jacket, and with a heavy sigh wheeled around to face him. "It's _done_ , Marcus. I'm not backing out."

"I know," he said in a gentle tone. "That's not what I'm talking about." She stared at him for a moment, confused. A soft smile stretched across his face, and he took a step closer. A firm but light hand landed on her shoulder, and she swallowed hard as his sincere eyes met hers. "What I mean is that I know you feel you need to do this after everything that's happened…but you don't have to...because you're the best damn officer the Ark has ever had, and nothing will ever change that. Nothing. And I want you to know that I couldn't be prouder of you." His eyes were glassy, and a sad smile teetered on his lips. After a moment, his hand extended out to her. "It's been my greatest privilege to be a part of your life, Eve Logan."

Her eyes fell to his hand, and a thickness grew in the back of her throat. The time for goodbyes had arrived and even with all her emotional preparations - imagining the moment, reciting the words, promising herself she'd walk away strong - she still wasn't ready. Not by a long shot.

She never cried, ever. Not since her parents' execution. But his words struck her, and she couldn't prevent the tears from building along the waterline of her own eyes, threatening to fall down her cheeks. She wanted to thank him for everything he'd done for her. Even when she was a lousy kid, he always believed in her, never allowing her to feel sorry for herself or settle for less. Instead, his unrelenting motivation pushed her to work harder, to be a better person, and to never give up. He always fueled her potential and even though their blood was not the same, she considered Marcus a father, a protector, a mentor, and most of all - a friend. She wanted to tell him that he was wrong, that she wasn't going to the ground for a tainted legacy or redemption, but because it was what he would do if he were in her position.

He was a great and brave man, and she would do anything to live up to him and everything he saw her be. Words could not express her gratitude.

Straightening her stance and tightening her jaw, she returned an assertive nod and shook his hand, knowing the most meaningful thanks she could give him was to serve the Ark the best she could. As he had.

"I won't let you down," she said.

"I know you won't," he smiled. The thumb of his free hand wiped a fallen tear from Eve's cheek, and after a moment of looking at each other with sorrow-stricken eyes, he pulled her into an embrace.

Eve held him close, her chin resting on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's all right," he whispered back, giving her a gentle pat. "I'm the one that's sorry. I should've been there for you, and I wasn't." He pulled away with his hands on her shoulders and stared into her pained eyes. "I hope you can forgive me."

She shook her head and smiled, sniffling her tears away. "There's nothing to forgive."

A warm smile stretched across Marcus's face. He gave her one last look before taking a step to the side. "The prisoners are being boarded right now." He gestured to the door. "You should go."

Eve stared at the opening that led out into the grey, metal hallway and took a deep breath.

"Goodbye, Marcus." Her eyes met his. "May we meet again."

He nodded back. "May we meet again."

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 **Welcome! Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. If you have any recommendations or advice, please feel free to let me know. As of 05/24/19, I have placed this story on hiatus and under revision. All chapters after chapter four have been taken down and will be replaced one at a time once I have corrected errors and improved weak writing. Thank you for your patience.**


	2. Poetic Ending

**2**

 **POETIC ENDING**

Horrifying screams and shouts echoed against metal walls, rusted pipes, and then escaped into the hallway, leaving a trail of cold air behind. It brushed past Eve, making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand, as she stood on B-Deck with arms wrapped around herself.

She didn't know what she feared more - being sucked into space, burning on the way down, or cooking from the inside-out from radiation.

The tumult in the ship continued and grew as more passengers awakened from the heavy sedative. Her clammy hands dropped to her sides and curled into fists. She took a deep breath and exhaled, repeating the process three times before the dread churning in her stomach relaxed. For a long time, she presumed her last breath would've been made in the inside of an airlock chamber as a sort of poetic ending.

But she guessed being sent to Earth along with the children and friends of people she floated would do.

"I'm not eighteen!" Eve turned to find a young man struggling between a pair of guards in dark uniforms. They dragged him by the arms as they carried him down the corridor without an ounce of pity on their dour faces. He pulled and shoved until he planted his feet against the floor. "I don't want to die!" He pleaded. "Please!"

"Shut it!" The guard to his right jabbed the end of an electric rod into the young man's side. His body went rigid and his teeth clenched so tightly that Eve was surprised they hadn't shattered. After a few seconds, he went as limp as a rag doll.

Frowning, she stepped aside, not missing the dirty looks the guards shot her way and watched as they carried him on. They disappeared into the upper levels.

Eve took another deep breath and wondered if Hell looked any different at the moment.

Stepping into the hollow ship, she did her best to shun the surrounding noises and then focused on her mission.

 _I need to be strong_ , she reminded herself. _For the Ark. No matter what._

Walking past a row of chairs, she sat in the farthest seat on the lowest floor next to a sleeping prisoner. Guards descended from the upper levels and went towards the main door, indicating they were leaving for drop-off. Pulling the straps over her torso, she buckled herself in and hoped to God the thin polyester was more sturdy than it felt. Being thrashed about the cabin wasn't on her list of ways to die.

She settled back against the stiff chair and let out a breath.

A year...a year of anticipation, dread, and regret - and now Eve was here, buckled for a ride to Earth. The feeling was bittersweet. She knew her struggles on the Ark were coming to an end...but she also knew that new ones were just beginning.

After a while, Eve's eyes landed on a young girl sleeping in the chair across the aisle. Her fair-haired head remained slumped to the side while drool trailed over the red seat belt pulled over her small body. It seemed that the guards hadn't bothered to adjust the sedative to her smaller stature. For once, Eve was thankful for those jackasses because at least the girl would sleep through the drop, and perhaps the first few minutes of landing.

She was lucky...unlike the rest of them.

The last of the guards egressed, and the ramp began to close. The light from the hallway diminished from the corner of her eye until dense darkness filled the cabin. A loud bang shook the metal ship followed by a low, ominous hiss.

Hysteria broke out.

Amplified by the hollow walls, blares of screams and shouts shrouded Eve's thoughts, making her stomach twist and churn. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, taking slow, deep breaths. But the ruckus continued, and she couldn't hold her composure as her mind began to overflow with paranoid thoughts. Would a hundred-year-old ship actually make it through the atmosphere without burning to Hell? How long would it be before the radiation took everyone? Would there be enough time to contact the Ark and warn them? Would it even be necessary if they'd know once everyone flat-lined?

Her chest tightened, the air becoming thicker around her. She couldn't breathe. Her head shot up, desperate for air. But then the darkness caved in around her until her vision became a small tunnel.

She was alone…in a dark room filled with screams.

 _This_ was Hell.

Petrified, Eve remained frozen in her seat for a long time until her eyes landed on the little girl again. She was still fast asleep and blissfully unaware of the terror surrounding them. She was at peace.

Eve stared at her, focused on emulating the girl's tranquility. She clung onto it like a lifeline, and the longer she stared, the more the tightness around her chest loosened. With every breath, the panic shed from her body until sensory returned to her fingers. Air entered her lungs, and she could see beyond the tunnel surrounding her vision.

She regained control of herself. All thanks to Charlotte Risdon, the young girl who'd lost her parents to the stringent laws of the Ark five months ago. After agreeing to her sentence, Eve memorized the profiles of the prison database a hundred times over. Remembering the prisoners' names, faces, history, and their reason for incarceration. Charlotte was one the youngest to ever be incarcerated and the youngest of the hundred.

 _If we survive this, I'll watch over her,_ she silently promised her parents - wherever they were now.

Sighing, Eve rested her head against the hard seat and closed her eyes, waiting for it all to end soon. After a minute, low groans to her left caught her attention. Opening her eyes, she looked over. The sleeping prisoner slouched in the adjacent seat lifted his head, and beneath the grey beanie, dark hair fell in layers over his shoulders. When his face appeared in the dim light from the upper levels, her face dropped.

Still groggy from the sedative, his puffy, brown eyes narrowed at their surroundings. They landed on the little girl across from them before roving over to Eve. He blinked, seemingly trying to recognize her but once realizing he didn't, he looked over to the rest of the ship, seeing the other prisoners fastened in their seats.

Eve didn't need to memorize a profile to recognize the fool next to her. Everyone knew of the infamous _Spacewalker_ who took an illegal stroll into space, wasting roughly three months of oxygen supply and making that month one of Eve's most difficult.

After the incident, she ordered a massive clean up of the lower levels to make up for the loss - the raid that made her infamous in her own right. The guards executed unexpected visits to all lower-level residential units, and since it was done so last minute, no one had the time to make arrangements to hide contraband.

A lot of bad people went down that day…but so did a lot of good people. People she swore to protect.

She hated Finn Collins.

"I guess they decided it was easier to just float us all at once," he mumbled to no one in particular.

Before she could snap at him, the screen of a video broadcaster flickered on above them. Chancellor Jaha stood in an empty room with a hard expression.

"Prisoners of the Ark, hear me now," his deep voice bellowed. "You've been a given a second chance."

No one could ever understand how much truth those words held to her.

Eve listened with undivided attention as he explained their dire situation, the reality of their sacrifice, and the importance of their survival. He provided instructions on reaching an old military facility called Mount Weather. It contained food and supplies. She intended to find it once they landed…that is _if_ they survived.

She heard Collins shuffle around but didn't pay much mind...until his body began floating off in the corner of her eye. She turned her head and realized he'd unfastened his straps. He headed towards a ladder leading up to the upper floor.

"What the hell are you doing?" she exclaimed. "Get back in your seat!"

He swiveled around in midair and gave her a sly smile. "If I'm gonna die, why not have some fun doing it?" he said.

She shot him a glare and watched in anger as he turned back without a care in the world. He pulled himself up the metal ladder, disappearing through the opened hatch. Letting out a sharp huff, Eve slammed her head back against the chair in frustration and closed her eyes. _Teenagers_.

She thought of better times when life hadn't become a colossal mess, and when she wasn't strapped into a death sentence. Then the ship juddered and thrashed with a violent force. She clung to the seatbelts as her stomach rose into her chest. The walls and floors creaked and groaned with every passing second. Lights flickered like sporadic stars, blinding nearby seaters as their bulbs burst from their cases. Sparkes shot across the room and over people's heads. Pipes and tubes ripped from the walls, releasing exhaust into the room.

They fell for a long time.

The time for parachute deployment had passed, and she worried. If they died from crash-landing, the Ark would never know if the Earth was still toxic.

The ship jolted upward, the whiplash threatening to snap her neck. Her body flung back onto the hard seat, and then the world became still. The engine and machines whirred to a dead stop, leaving the small population in utter silence.

Eve swallowed hard. Her widened gaze met Charlotte's who was now awake and frozen with shock.

"Listen," a voice echoed from the levels above. "No machine hum."

"Whoa. That's a first," another responded.

The sounds of seat belts unbuckling trailed around the small vessel. Rushing footsteps trampled in all directions until someone shouted, 'the outer door is on the lower level!' Boots hurried to the hatch and then down the ladder.

Eve unclipped her straps with haste, flinging them away, and then rushed across the aisle. She kneeled at Charlotte's feet.

"Are you hurt?" she whispered, examining her small figure for any signs of injury. When she didn't receive an answer, Eve looked up at her. Charlotte shook her head, her light eyebrows furrowed at the center and cheeks blush from tears. "Good. What's your name, sweetie?"

"Charlotte," she replied in a small voice.

"I'm Eve." She offered a smile, hoping it would be of some comfort, but Charlotte's frown only deepened. "I know you're scared, Charlotte. I am, too. But if we stick together, I know we can make it out just fine. What do you think?"

Charlotte hesitated, and she didn't hold it against her. Living in prison at such a young age around criminals, around those that took advantage of the naive would make anyone cynical. But after a moment of scrutinization, Charlotte returned a tight smile and nodded.

"Good." Eve rose to her feet. "Now let's get these off of you."

As she worked on Charlotte's straps, an argument broke out in the front section of their level. Glancing over, much couldn't be seen through the darkness and huddle of people, and she couldn't hear through the heavy exchange of murmurs. Having unclipped the last strap, Eve took a step back and helped Charlotte slide off the seat. Her light feet made little to no noise. Turning to the murmuring and growing crowd, she tried to discern the conversations.

"The air could be toxic," someone argued among the crowd.

Eve took a step closer for better range but stopped when Charlotte shook at her arm. Looking down, a pair of worrisome, brown eyes stared back at her.

"I'm scared," Charlotte whispered. "If they open the door…"

"Hey, it's alright," Eve assured, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I'll protect you. No matter what happens. OK?"

Charlotte looked at her for a moment and then swallowed hard. "OK," she nodded.

"OK." Eve offered her another smile, though dread grew in the pit of her stomach. They could all die in a few minutes, and there wasn't a damn thing that Eve could do about it. But somehow, a flicker of hope lingered in the back of her mind.

"Bellamy?" a soft, female voice resonated from the front.

Eve's eyes widened to the size of the moon.

"My God, look how big you are," Bellamy's deep voice appeared. And that flicker of hope extinguished before it ever had a chance to grow.

"What is it?" Charlotte whispered.

Eve blinked. "Nothing," she blurted, though her mind rushed with panicked thoughts. Maybe running off at the first opportunity was the best idea after all. She inhaled, realizing she hadn't been breathing. _Get it together, Logan. Just a bit of inconvenience. Nothing you can't handle._ "Thought I heard something," she added. She cleared her throat and met Charlotte's concerned gaze with a calm smile. "It's nothing. Now, come on. We need to get closer."

Pulling her dark hood over her head and with Charlotte not too far behind, she led them into the crowd. This new problem, she'd deal with later. For now, the door was her primary concern. She passed along the far left wall of the room, making minimal contact with shoulders and arms before coming to a stop just behind the first row facing the door.

Looking between their shoulders, Eve spotted the handle that would open the door to the outside and possibly kill everyone in the room. Nearby stood the owners of the voices she heard earlier, the Blake siblings...Octavia and Bellamy. They clung to each other in a full embrace, their faces buried into each other's shoulders as the room remained silent.

Bellamy's presence made sense to her now. He'd snuck onto the ship for his little sister, of course. How he'd managed to learn about the project, she had no idea, but he'd always been resourceful, so it didn't come as a surprise. Her mind took her back to the night of the annual Masquerade dance, and she remembered the look on his face when Octavia's existence was discovered. Desperate and pleading.

Eve released a heavy sigh, the weight of that night resting heavily on her shoulders. They both made terrible decisions that night, and because of it, Eve knew better than most that he was a force to be reckoned with. He was willing to do anything to protect the people he cared about.

Anything.

After a few moments, the siblings separated. They smiled at each other before Octavia's gaze landed on his jacket.

"What the hell are you wearing?" she asked, appalled. She tugged at the fabric. "A guard's uniform?"

"I borrowed it to get on the dropship," he clarified, mirroring her look of displeasure and then smirked. "Someone's got to keep an eye on you."

As they hugged again, a light-haired, young woman stepped out from the crowd. Eve recognized her as doctor Abigail Griffin's daughter, Clarke Griffin.

 _One down, one to go._

"Where's your wristband?" Clarke demanded.

"Do you mind?" Octavia spun around with daggers in her eyes and Eve turned away, hiding within the cover of her hood. The two taller boys in front provided enough protection, but she didn't want to risk making eye contact with either sibling, knowing it wouldn't take much to recognize her since she took part in what happened that night.

"That's Octavia Blake," someone shouted from the back. "The girl they found hidden in the floor."

For almost two decades, Bellamy and his mother hid Octavia beneath the floor of their unit because under the Ark's one-child law, bearing a second child was illegal and punishable by death. Illegitimate conceptions were terminated before birth, but Aurora Blake was among the few that refused to give up their child even under the threat of weekly inspections and the possibility of execution. Bellamy rarely ever spoke of his mother or life at home so Eve could only imagine what it took to keep their family safe.

"Octavia, Octavia, no." Bellamy restrained his sister from lunging into the crowd. She turned to him with an ired look. "Let's give them something else to remember you by."

Examining the hair braids lined over the sides of Charlotte's head that met together into a short tail, Eve continued listening, feeling anxious when Bellamy offered Octavia to be the first person to step on the ground in a hundred years and then walked over to the handle.

"Get ready," she whispered to Charlotte, squeezing her hand and upon hearing the handle being pulled down, Eve's head shot up. A brilliant, white light, as bright as a passing comet, spilled into the room, decompression steam spraying from either side of the doorway. Her eyes burned, but she didn't flinch or look away, wanting to face whatever came next. A unified sense of astonishment filled the room as everyone gaped in awe, and they watched as Octavia took the first few steps towards the edge of the opening.

"What does it look like?" Charlotte whispered.

From where Eve stood - fixated, all she could see was green, so much green, of different shades and highlights. It coated the trees and the ground. Thick, humid air filled her lungs, and it carried a sweet scent and something else that Eve could only describe as fresh. It was nothing like she or anyone had encountered in the last hundred years. It was magnificent, and the words to articulate it to Charlotte eluded her dumbfounded mind.

"It's beautiful," Eve managed to say. After a moment, she blinked the shock away and then crouched at Charlotte's side. "Get on."

Charlotte looked confused at first, but when she realized what she meant, a grin spread across her face. She climbed on with ease and with arms wrapped securely over her shoulders, Eve stood, lifting Charlotte high above the others. The light from outside glowed over her pretty face, and though Eve couldn't see her reaction, she knew the little girl was staring wide-eyed and mouth agape at the surrealness of it all.

"We're back, bitches!" Octavia shouted after taking the final steps off the ramp. Cheers and howls roared from within the ship, and without warning, the delinquents rushed forward.

"Hold on!" Eve called out, holding Charlotte's legs along her waist.

Keeping her head down, she ran out with the rest of the group following their lead as they spilled out before scattering into different directions. Stepping off the ramp, she veered left and went around the side of the ship, stopping near a large, green shrub. Letting Charlotte slide off, Eve took a labored breath, her chest feeling tight from her _very_ short run. It'd been a year since she'd done any real training, but she couldn't have been that out-of-shape, could she?

 _Damn gravity_ , she surmised.

Taking another deep breath, she turned her head and examined the area. Delinquents ran and leaped through the virgin forest, their shouts of glee echoing in the vastness. Thick, bright green vegetation blanketed the ground and trees. Furry vines hung over the branches and curtained down to the ground, blending back into the grass. She stretched out her arm and reached for the thick blades that stood high enough to touch her chest, wondering if they'd feel any different from the Eden tree on the Ark.

Vera, Marcus's mother, let her caress the tiny leaflets of the bonsai tree a few times when she was a child. It wasn't permitted, but Vera had done it in the hopes she'd join the church one day and tend to the tree as Marcus had. But with the operational and administrative aspects of her job, Eve was always too busy to be involved, and in truth, she had no interest in it. Her time needed to be put to better use elsewhere...or at least, that's what Marcus often told her. She frowned at the thought and took her hand back. She should've spent more time with Vera.

Tilting her chin upward, she sniffed the air, taking in its mildewy scent and hoped that it's otherwise clean impression wasn't concealing a deadly undertone of radiation. Out into the forest, a dense layer of fog stretched between the trees and made anything beyond a few meters impossible to see, but that didn't stop the delinquents from running wildly into it. Sighing, she took a moment to admire it. The place truly was magnificent, and Eve was, for the first time in a long time, _excited_. Excited of what the future would hold for the Ark. Everything was going to change, and everything Vera had talked about all those years was no longer a century-old fantasy. Their time on Earth was now, and she was more determined than ever to save the Ark and bring everyone down. To their new home.

She felt the corners of her mouth quirk upward.

Looking off into the distance, she spotted Clarke's golden bob of hair, bouncing behind her as she trod off into the field. Eve told Charlotte to stay close before proceeding to catch up with the young Griffin to begin a plan. If anyone were willing to help, it would be Dr. Griffin's daughter and the Chancellor's son. She'd find the latter later and hopefully, not run into Bellamy Blake or his sister.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Ice Box

**3**

 **ICE BOX**

"At least they gave everyone jackets. It's freezing down here," Eve said, shivering as she stretched the ends of her sleeves over her hands. She looked at Charlotte with a discontented smirk, expecting her to agree but instead, Charlotte gave her an amused smile and shook her head. "You don't think so? Look, watch." Eve exhaled a breath that turned a brisk, foggy white before disappearing into the air. "It's like being in a damn icebox."

Charlotte giggled and shrugged. "Well, with space being like a hundred degrees below or whatever, I don't think anything can get colder."

"Hm, I don't know. I've got a few ex-boyfriends that would disagree with you on that." Charlotte turned to her with an inquiring look, and Eve winked at her. She chuckled, trying her best to not make too much sound or draw attention to herself. Even with the shy demeanor, it was nice to see a genuine smile on her, one that made her cheeks inflate and scrunch against her hazel-brown eyes, bringing a newfound look of joy. "You should smile more," Eve commented, sliding her cold hands into the pockets of her jacket, watching as Charlotte lifted her legs high enough to step through the tall grass. "Really brings out the shine in your eyes."

Charlotte didn't respond, only smiled for a moment more before a frown dragged at the corner of her lips, the gleam dwindling away.

Eve's eyebrows furrowed. "Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah," she replied in a small voice. "It's nothing."

"Doesn't really look like nothing..."

With head hung low and shoulders hunched over, Charlotte stared at the ground. "It's just-" She paused and took a deep breath, looking out into the distance with eyes welled with tears. "My mom used to say something like that."

"Oh." Eve dropped her gaze, guilt filling her chest. "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I didn't know."

"No, it's OK." Charlotte shook her head, wiping the water from her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. "It's not your fault."

Eve's insides twisted as she watched Charlotte regain her composure, wiping her face over her jacket and sniffing the tears away. She knew those feelings of loss all too well, knew the strength it took to push them back into their hollow depths and how hard it could be to ignore them as they tried to claw their way out. She managed to put that pain behind her long ago, but Charlotte's was fresh. Her parents had been ripped from her life just a few months ago, right in front of her, and Eve knew Charlotte felt robbed.

She took a deep breath. "I know it's hard moving forward when you've lost everything. And even harder when you're on your own… but it doesn't have to be. I lost my parents when I was young, too." She met Charlotte's sad gaze. "If you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you. OK? When you're ready."

Charlotte's eyes began to well with tears again, her lips in a tight purse as she resisted the urge to cry. "OK," she choked, nodding her head in understanding.

Giving her a sympathetic smile, Eve wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders and soothed her arm. Charlotte leaned into her side and sniffled a bit as they continued on their path, treading through the uneven terrain that sloped and dipped every so often, the grass rustling against them.

Clarke remained ahead, still aimlessly finding her way through the field. Eve slowed her pace and scanned the area for anyone that looked over the age of seventeen, specifically with dark, slicked-back hair and a guard's uniform - or their younger sister who held an unrelenting look of detest. But the Blakes were nowhere to be found, the open green field filled with only the prisoners that decided to not run off into the woods.

She cupped her hands around her mouth to call out to Clarke.

"Boys are stupid," Charlotte murmured.

Eve paused and looked over her shoulder, not sure if she'd said something. "What?"

"Boys are stupid," Charlotte repeated louder. "You're one of the nicest people I've ever met, and if your boyfriends didn't think so, then they're stupid."

"Oh. Well, yeah. Of course! Total boneheads. That's why they're _ex_ -boyfriends." Charlotte chuckled under her breath, and Eve smiled. At least _someone_ thought she was funny. She turned away and took a deep breath. "Clarke!"

Clarke stopped in her tracks, the loose strands of her golden hair moving in the breeze as she turned around, searching for the source of the call. Her gaze landed on Eve and Charlotte, and she eyed them as they approached.

"Yes?" she answered with a bit of suspicion in her voice.

"It's Logan. Eve Logan." Eve brushed the hood back for a moment before letting it fall in place. Charlotte appeared at her side, peering around at the others with curiosity. "This is Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Clarke."

The girls gave each other an acknowledging smile before Clarke returned her attention to Eve. "Why would they send _you_?"

Eve's eyebrows shot up her forehead. "Well, if you prefer someone else, Griffin, I can try making a call."

"No. I mean, when my mom said they'd send someone to help us, I didn't expect they'd send an officer of the Guard. At a time like this? That's insane."

Eve glanced down at Charlotte, wondering if she heard that bit of information, but the girl was more occupied with watching the nearby explorers, who were picking up small objects off the floor, than listening to their conversation.

"Things have changed since we last met," she said curtly, not interested in elaborating.

"You mean when you arrested my father?" Clarke's gaze darkened, and her lips pursed with discontent. "Or when you arrested _me_?"

Eve took a moment to let that sink in. A year ago, Clarke's father, the Ark's senior engineer and deputy recourse officer, had discovered a fault within the oxygen generators. While the Council deliberated the Ark's future, he'd been ordered to keep the situation confidential. And then one day the Chancellor sent Eve to arrest him. He was executed as of traitor, and to make matters worse, Clarke was sent to solitary prison not long after. Eve, at the time, hadn't known the truth. She'd only been told they were conspiring to endanger the Ark's safety.

Regardless, Clarke blamed her. Shit, she blamed herself for not questioning it, but now was not the time. If Clarke wanted to hash it out, she'd have to wait.

"I was following orders," she reminded her, keeping her voice low. "If it hadn't been me, it would've been someone else. You know that."

A silence stretched between them as Clarke continued to glower, her scrutinizing gaze scanning Eve's olive complexion for any reason to continue the conversation. After a moment, Clarke exhaled a breath, her expression and shoulders relaxing.

"I know," she admitted. "I'm glad you're here. Really. We're gonna need all the help we can get."

 _Thank God._ "I'm here for anything you and Wells need," Eve assured.

Clarke's good nature quickly disappeared, her arms folded across her chest and brow furrowed in disagreement. "And what about everyone else?"

 _Of course_. What else would be expected of a doctor's daughter other than the need to take care of others first? All one-hundred of them.

Sighing, Eve peered over at the open field, an unimpressed feeling washing over her as she watched a group of teenagers roll in the dirt while others ran maniacally through the trees touching everything in sight, not caring if it's possible lethality.

"Look, check this out!" one shouted, having found new colorful discoveries growing on a particular patch of dirt while another ran across the grass to show them something that strongly resembled a mushroom.

 _Please don't eat it._

All she saw was a crowd of overzealous children and an abundance of lack of self-control. It made her cringe, and she hoped the Ark would land soon before she became a babysitter to ninety-eight other teenagers. God help her.

Shuddering at the thought, she turned back to Clarke. "Let's just start with you and Wells. If you want to help them, that's up to you but don't expect them to cooperate."

Clarke pursed her lips at the comment and observed some nearby groups, watching them with scrutinizing blue eyes, and after a few seconds, her serious scowl waned into one of worry and concern. The lines on her forehead began to crinkle, but the determination in Clarke's eyes hadn't faltered. A strategy formed behind their deep blue orbs and Eve could tell she was ready to take control of the situation. An attribute surely learned from her parents. She was strong like her mother and smart like her father. They'd met on a few occasions when Eve was a regular patient during her earlier years of training, much to Dr. Griffin's dismay.

But something was different about Clarke. She no longer beamed with wonder or merriment like the girl in the clinic, her features held a darkened mood and the natural smile from before had flattened to a tight line. Clarke had changed. But by how much?

Eve wondered if the year of solitary prison had altered her perception on people - on the Ark. Did she secretly hate the Ark now? Was Clarke holding a grudge against those that sentenced her father to death and locked her away? Was she that different from everyone else on the dropship?

 _Can she be trusted?_

"They need guidance," Clarke affirmed, her serious gaze still fixed on the others. "Bringing back the supplies from Mount Weather will show them that working together is the best option right now until the Ark arrives." Satisfied with the idea, Clarke nodded to herself and then turned back to Eve.

"All right, sure." She nodded back, though she wasn't too fond with the idea of taking a group of teenagers out into the forest. "Just, uh, one thing." Eve checked on Charlotte who was now looking up at both older girls, her attention fully drawn. It wasn't that Eve didn't trust her, but the fewer people that knew who she was, the easier it would be to keep things quiet and under control. "No one really calls me Eve," she said. "It's _Marie_."

Clarke's light eyebrows pooled at the center, knowing no one ever called her _Marie_. She motioned to say something when her gaze flicked down to Charlotte before slowly trailing across the field, and it dawned on her what she meant.

"Alright...Marie," Clarke said, playing along. "What's the plan, then? How do we get to Mount Weather?"

Eve turned away to scan the area, not liking how close they were to listening ears no matter how preoccupied the prisoners seemed. Seeing a hill a few meters away surrounded by tall trees and large shrubbery, Eve nodded over to it.

"Follow me."

The hill wasn't as steep as it'd looked from afar and once reaching the top, the girls paused for a moment to admire the view that overlooked the grand valley, the fresh air wafting against their faces and into the loose strands of their hair.

As Clarke and Charlotte continued to stare in awe, Eve pulled a map from her back pocket. She unfolded the sheet and then handed it to Clarke, who managed to rip her gaze from the sight.

"This is where we are," - Eve pointed at a spot on the map before delineating to a different location a few inches away - "this is Mount Weather. Where we're supposed to be."

Clarke examined the map, her gaze glancing between the paper and the valley before dropping her arms with a heavy sigh. "They dropped us on the wrong damn mountain! It's going to take us all day to get this done."

"Why so serious, princess?" The girls looked over their shoulders to find Collins strolling up the hill, his beanie-less black mane flowing in the wind as he found a spot next to Clarke. He shot them a smile before looking toward the mountain. Eve slowly removed her hand from the inside of her jacket. "It's not like we died in a fiery explosion," Collins continued.

"Try telling that to the two guys who tried to follow you out of their seats." Clarke pursed her lips, returning her attention to the map.

"What?" Eve turned to Collins with raised eyebrows. "We lost two people?" He didn't respond, his downcast eyes answering for him as he stared at the ground, guilt-ridden. Anger flared within her. Not only was he responsible for costing the Ark three months of oxygen, but he'd also manage to get two people killed on the first day because of his stupid antics. If it weren't for Charlotte standing next to her, nothing would have stopped Eve from lunging at the ridiculous kid and proceed in caving in his face for his carelessness and stupidity. "Unbelievable," Eve spat, shaking her head as she turned away.

Finn frowned. "I didn't mean for anyone to get hurt."

"Don't say another word," she warned. "I told you to remain in your seat. Now two people are dead. How many more need to die because of you, Collins?"

"How many more? What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means," - her hands curled into fists at her sides as she turned to face him, ignoring Clarke's disapproving stare - "that if you put another person in danger, I will _wring_ your _fucking neck_!"

"OK, stop! This doesn't help anyone," Clarke exclaimed, extending her arm to keep Eve from getting any closer to Collins as he stood frozen with a shocked expression. "We just need to move on from this… and learn from our mistakes." She looked at Collins and then turned back to the fuming woman. "OK?"

Clarke stared at her with raised eyebrows, waiting for a response but Eve remained unmoved, still wanting to hang him upside and dip him into a nearby river.

But she'd settle for threats if only to stay practical.

Folding her arms across her chest, she nodded to Clarke before shooting a glare at Collins. His eyebrows furrowed, unsure on what just happened. Of course, he didn't know about the hell he'd caused for her, but his ignorance couldn't save him. Turning away to the valley, she made a mental note to deal with him later and do more than make threats the next time he pulled some shit. That was a promise.

She examined the large mountain in the distance. It was a pale shade of blue, almost melding with the sky while a dense mist drifted along its base and in between the other equally sized mountains. They sloped across the valley like massive dunes covered in trees and grass, their relentless overgrowth enveloping everything in their path. Eve couldn't help but feel a bit daunted by the display. The journey to Mount Weather wouldn't be a stroll.

"Looks like a twenty-mile hike."

"I know," Clarke said with disappointment, staring at the valley. "But if we leave now, we can get there before sundown and be back tomorrow. I just need to map out a course."

"All right, sounds like a plan. Let's regroup in ten." Eve spun on her heel and made her way down the hill.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"The Ark needs to know the ground is safe. I'm going to check on the comm system."

"Good idea," Clarke nodded in affirmation. "I'll meet you at the dropship."

Confident in her ability to map a path to Mount Weather, Eve left her to it, ignored Collins, and proceeded to the dropship. Charlotte followed not too far behind.

As she made her way, Eve listened and watched for any sign of the dark-haired siblings, hoping they weren't lollygagging around in the metal vessel. When she reached it, she slowed her pace, taking small steps towards the ramp, listening for any voices inside.

"Why do you hate him?" Charlotte's voice came.

Holding the side of the hood over her face, Eve looked over her shoulder. "Hate who?" she whispered, gesturing Charlotte to come closer.

"That boy. On the hill. The one you said you'd wring his fu-"

"Hey!" She spun around, her face still obscured behind the hood. "Don't even think about it!" Charlotte swallowed those last words beneath Eve's warning glare. After a moment, she turned back and stepped onto the ramp, remaining cautious. "And I don't hate him. He's just a punk."

"Then why'd you threaten him?" Charlotte's gentle voice echoed in the room as Eve checked the perimeter. Confident that no one was inside, Eve turned and faced her. Curious eyes stared back, waiting for an answer that she didn't want to give.

"Because I lost my cool," she admitted with a heavy sigh. "I shouldn't have done that, and I'm sorry you had to see it. "

"But you wanted to hurt him, right?"

Eve frowned, wishing she had been more careful around Charlotte.

"No," she answered, looking at the ground as she ran her tongue over her teeth, knowing that response wasn't wholly true. "And yes."

Charlotte thought about her words for a moment before taking a step closer. "Would you have? If Clarke hadn't stopped you?"

"No, of course not." Eve shook her head, unsure if that answer was true either.

"But he deserved it…for getting those guys killed."

" _Deserved_?" Eve raised her head with a quirked eyebrow. "If he did, I wasn't the one to decide...Charlotte, where is this coming from?"

"Nevermind." The young girl retreated, breaking eye contact.

"Hey...hey, you can talk to me, remember?" Charlotte swallowed hard, and her sad eyes stared back at Eve. The silence stretched between them. Letting out a sigh, Eve took a step forward to kneel at Charlotte's feet. It was best to speak to children at, or below, their level, Marcus would say. Children weren't her specialty. For most of her life, she spent her time around adults and the kids she'd encountered, feared her for one reason or another. Mostly because of the uniform. Charlotte wasn't a child, she knew, but with the way the young girl looked at her...Eve worried she'd fail her. "Go on, Char. Tell me what's happening."

Charlotte opened her mouth to respond when a loud clatter echoed from the levels above. Looking over her shoulder, Eve eyed the open hatch atop the ladder.

"Someone's up there," Charlotte whispered.

With light and slow steps, Eve stood and walked towards the ladder. Deep thumps and shuffling appeared at a time and in the same area while the rest of the ship remained quiet, indicating the presence of one person. Most likely a male, she figured, from the weighty sound of their footsteps.

"Wait outside, Char." She waved her towards the door.

"Don't go."

Eve looked over her shoulder. "It's all right," she assured, keeping her voice as casual as possible. "I'm just gonna check if they need help."

After a moment, Charlotte nodded before walking away, her head hung low. Eve watched her leave before sighing and looking up at the ladder that led to the top floor where the communication links were located. A heavy feeling grew in the pit of her stomach, not comfortable with the idea of Charlotte being alone but bringing her along wouldn't have been good, especially if a confrontation awaited on the third floor. The best she could do was ask her to wait outside where others could see her, and if something happened, Clarke would be nearby.

As she ascended the ladder and grew closer to the second hatch, the clatter had gone quiet along with the stranger's trampling. Had they heard her?

With silent steps and slow movements, she reached the end of the ladder, her breathing even and hands relaxed as she unholstered her gun and brought it forth. She peeked over the edge, spotting the person across the room. They stood still, their hands placed flat on the communications console as they remained hunched over, head hung low and clearly frustrated with whatever it was they were doing. With a brief scan of the room, she spotted no one else, just the tall, swarthy fellow in front of her wearing a red bomber jacket sewn from the more finer threads of polyester offered on the Ark.

Holstering her weapon, she pulled herself up through the hatch opening. "Any luck?"

The young man practically jumped out of his skin as he spun around. "Jesus! You scared the hell out of me!" He leaned forward and took heavy breaths, a hand over his chest to keep his heart from bursting through.

"You look like you're going to throw up, Wells," she teased, walking past him and toward the consoles. "Not a good idea. You're gonna need that boost of protein on our way to Mount Weather."

Regaining his composure, he gave her an unamused look. "You mean the scraps they gave us in prison?"

"Hey, getting arrested was your idea."

Wells frowned at her. She went around the counter and then crouched, her eyes landing on a labyrinth of burnt circuitry.

"I had to. For Clarke." Eve glanced up at him with an impassive expression before reaching for the cables. She shuffled through motherboards and hard drives, hoping to find something salvageable. He sighed. "You think I'm an idiot, don't you?"

"Who cares what I think." She tossed a bundle of fried cables over her shoulder before pushing her search further into the compartment "But it would've been nice to have one less person to watch over."

"I know my father sent you to protect me," he said tartly. "But I can take care of myself."

"Never said you couldn't." She tried her best not to sound too annoyed. Maybe it was the hard landing or the abundance of oxygen in the air that had Wells acting like a fool - either way, he needed to take his head out of his ass before people went looking for some fucked up form of justice against his father. She stood, rubbing the grime from her hands over her trousers. "And your father didn't send me to protect you," she lied, for the sake of ending the topic. "He sent me to help, which includes watching your back, all right?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, waiting for another pissy remark.

After a few seconds, Wells frowned, guilt washing over his face. He sighed. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to be a jerk. I just...I wish things were different between Clarke and me. I wish she didn't hate me."

"Until the Ark lands, call me Marie. The last thing I need is you calling me _sir_ in front of the whole damn prison population." She went to the far wall and sat in a vacant seat, letting out a heavy sigh. The consoles were destroyed, meaning there was no way to contact the Ark. "And she wouldn't hate you if you'd tell her the truth."

"No, I can't." Wells shook his head. "I can't do that to her."

Eve closed her eyes and leaned forward, resting her forehead on her palms. Oh, teenaged love. They'd just lost all contact with the Ark, and yet, Wells's focus was elsewhere. She understood, of course. He'd been sulking over Clarke since her incarceration, and now that he had his second chance, she was all he could think about. But as they'd discussed in length before, he couldn't have his friend back without telling her the painful truth. It was a harsh reality to live in but knowing Wells, he'd live in it for as long as he needed if it meant keeping Clarke or anyone else he cared about out of harm's way.

Sometimes she wondered if he enjoyed suffering.

"Good," she murmured. "Don't tell her. Not yet."

"Why?"

"Clarke needs to focus on what's happening here. Not on her mother who's a billion miles away…and on the Ark, might I add."

Wells stared at her for a moment, her insinuation sinking into his brain. "Clarke would _never_ turn on the Ark," he proclaimed.

"Right," she blurted, sitting up and waving at the air. "Just like she would _never_ believe you'd turn in her father." Wells flinched as if she'd struck him and then his gaze dropped to the floor. A wave of guilt washed over her, realizing she'd said too much. Maybe the abundance of oxygen was getting to her as well. "Dammit. I'm sorry, Wells. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, you're right," he said with a half-hearted nod. "She shouldn't know the truth. At least not yet." Wells looked back at Eve for a moment before turning to the communication frame. "Nothing then?"

Eve pursed her lips, wanting to give him some words of comfort, but instead she sighed and looked at the mess of wires with an irritated glare. "So far. We need an engineer."

"Those are back on the Ark."

"Yup." They both stared at the console in defeat for a long time before an idea came to her. "Actually..," images of everyone's files flipped through her mind like a stack of unveiling cards before stopping at the one she needed, "there's Monty Green."

"Monty Green?" Wells asked. "Who the hell is that?"

A smile stretched across her face. "The solution to our problem."

"Great! Then I'll go find him. What's he look like?"

"He's your height. Black hair and brown eyes. His family originally came from Shenzhen."

"OK," he nodded, thinking for a moment as he pieced an image in his mind. "I'll find him."

Wells spun on his heel and descended down the hatch. Eve watched as he disappeared. Clarke was smart in many ways but a fool to believe that Wells had anything to do with her father's execution. He was a good friend - loyal than most. And if he'd had an interest in it, he would've made a fine guardsman.

Eve spent the next five minutes rummaging through cables and spare parts for anything useful. She didn't find much to her dismay besides long wires, sharp broken pieces of metal and busted pipes that she hid in a corner to keep out of unwanted hands.

She was wreathing wire together when angry voices echoed from downstairs. Ignoring it, she continued, not wanting to get involved with any quarrels between prisoners. Then Wells's voice appeared, asking someone to relax.

Sighing, Eve hastily stored the bundle into her pocket, and then rushed to the lower level, wishing Jaha junior had stayed home.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Bullies

**4**

 **BULLIES**

Rushing down the hatch, Eve gripped the sides of the ladder and slid her way to the bottom level. When her boots touched the floor, she took a step back and grimaced at the dark grime on her hands. Great. In less than an hour, she'd manage to collect more filth than she had her entire life, and the nearest shower was hundreds of thousands of miles away. Just great.

Wiping it over her trousers, she turned toward the door, not at all enthused to see a group of delinquents standing outside in front of Clarke and Wells.

"We're just trying to figure out where we are," said Wells.

The group sauntered forward and Eve's blood boiled when she realized which pale, flat-faced seventeen-year-old was leading them.

John Murphy.

The son of Alexander and Linda Murphy, both of whom died after his father was executed for thievery. Linda drank herself to death, and after, Murphy took it upon himself to seek revenge on the guard that arrested his father. He set fire to the guard's quarters, nearly killing him inside. She could still remember the sterile and medicinal scent of the infirmary as Jacob lied invalid in a hospital bed, half of his body covered in bandages. He whimpered in pain each time they moved him. As far as she knew, he was still recovering to this day.

Her hands curled into tight fists, her knuckles turning white. Murphy was a murderous and vengeful prick, and right now...he was a little too close to Wells.

She didn't think twice to rush across the room towards the growing tension, knowing her place was to be in front of Clarke and Wells to deflect anything Murphy decided to throw their way. As Eve reached the doorway, she noticed the audience scattered outside, their gazes fixed on the confrontation before flicking to an area a few meters away.

"We're on the ground. That not good enough for you?" Bellamy's voice appeared.

The thick rubber of her boots screeched against the metal floor as she managed to come to a halt, almost stumbling forward and out into the open for everyone to see. Grabbing the side of the door, she flung herself around, her back colliding against the left wall. Eve remained still, settling her breath as she listened for any indication that someone might have heard her.

"We need to find Mount Weather. You heard my father's message. That has to be our first priority," Wells said.

"Screw your father!" Octavia's voice appeared. "What? You think you're in charge here? You…and your little princess?"

"Do you think we care who's in charge?" Clarke stepped in, the tone in her voice making it clear she was telling, not asking. "We _need_ to get to Mount Weather. Not because the Chancellor said so, but because the longer we wait, the hungrier we'll get and the harder this will be. How long do you think we'll last without those supplies? We're looking at a twenty-mile trek, OK? So if we want to get there before dark, we need to leave now."

"I got a better idea. You two go, find it for us. Let the privileged do the hard work for a change." The crowd cheered in agreement with Bellamy's spiteful proposal. Eve rolled her eyes and shook her head. Bellamy - always so defiant.

Clarke continued, expecting rationale to win the crowd over. As if they'd be willing to listen to reason after having spent months - _years_ in a windowless cell with less than adequate food for meals and enduring constant negligence from those that put them there. They were angry, and nothing Clarke could say would steer them because she still didn't understand how much everyone despised the Ark… and in their eyes, _she_ was the Ark. Eve sighed. She'd warned her.

Soothing her hands over her head, Eve pulled back the loose strands of her dark brown hair and brought the hood over her head. She tugged it forward to obscure her face, feeling crabby at the fact that she needed to hide like _she_ was the criminal. After taking a deep breath, she spun around and stepped out into the open.

A few glanced in her direction, but most remained fixed on the discussion at hand. She kept her steps light, casually and calmly walking off the ramp to make her way past the shrubbery to find a place a few meters behind Murphy's group. Giving the area a brief scan, Charlotte's blond braids and oversized green jacket were nowhere to be found and Eve became worried, wondering where she'd run off to. She'd told her to remain outside, not to disappear.

Lowering her head and folding her arms over her chest, Eve grumbled unhappily and glowered as Clarke and Wells continued their efforts - a waste of time and energy that could be used on their journey to the mountain. Near the side of the ship, Bellamy and Octavia stood side by side, both glaring with annoyance and resentment. Their obstinance responses to anything Clarke and Wells had to say were already written across their faces. Bellamy stood brawny and tall, taller than most, and if Eve didn't know any better, she could still believe he was training to be a guardsman; a year of janitor work not impeding his physical stature in the slightest. The younger Blake, Octavia, hadn't grown much physically but her demeanor had changed. She was no longer the timid and quiet mouse under the floorboards, her bright blue eyes locking on Clarke and Wells like a hawk, ready to attack. Both stood firm and full of anger.

Eve could relate.

Her eyes flicked to the right as Murphy stepped forward and then shoved Wells to the ground. "Look at this, everybody - the Chancellor of Earth," he announced, laughter enveloping the crowd.

 _Take it easy_ , Eve told herself, calmly the flare of adrenaline pumping through her veins. _Wells has got this_.

Wells regained his footing and turned around. "You think that's funny?" he challenged.

Murphy chuckled sneeringly before taking a cheap shot at his ankle, kicking it in and then sweeping Wells's footing out from under him. Wells landed with a loud thud against the dirt.

"Wells!" Clarke shouted, lunging forward to his aid only to be restrained by Murphy's goons. Unable to get loose, her head snapped in different directions to search urgently through the crowd before looking to the dropship. "Marie!" she shouted.

Eve remained still, hesitant of being exposed so soon just because Murphy wanted to put on a show. Clarke shouted for her again.

"Who you callin'?" Murphy taunted. "No one's coming to save you. Not here." He smiled as she squirmed to get free, enjoying the fact that he could do what he pleased because there was no one around to say otherwise, no one to stop him.

He was a bully, and Eve hated bullies.

Running her tongue over her teeth and with eyes locked on Murphy, Eve stepped forward to stalk her way to the front, fists at her side. If he wanted to put on a show, she'd give him a show.

She passed a few shoulders, and when she came to a few feet from emerging from the crowd, a hand landed on her shoulder. Eve stopped and looked to her left. One of the older girls stared back at her with emerald-colored eyes; a poofy auburn braid trailed down the center of her head and into a long tail, and if it wasn't for her thin eyebrows and the light rose color of her lips, she could've passed off as a boy.

Her name was Zoe Monroe - incarcerated for assaulting multiple officers when they attempted to arrest her for trading contraband, presumably for Nygel, one of the Ark's culinary techs and the unofficial black market dealer. Nygel was as clever as she was psychopathic, using blackmail and rations to convince people to commit all kinds of infractions, including drug dealing, prostitution, and murder. And when the heat became too much, she'd feed a few of her people, sometimes clients, to the guard just to get them off her scent. Eve despised the woman, which is why she'd spent most of her efforts trying to bag the old bitch. If it weren't for the untimely and suspicious disappearance of a willing informant, Eve would've watched Nygel float a long time ago. And maybe Monroe wouldn't have gone to prison like so many others.

Monroe shook her head at Eve and jutted her chin toward the scene. Following the tanned girl's gaze, Eve watched as Wells returned to his feet, limping from the injured ankle as he found his balance.

"All right," Murphy smiled. "Let's dance."

Holding his fists before his face, the Chancellor's son prepared himself for a fight. Murphy taunted him with fake lunges and pranced around, goading for a reaction that Wells wouldn't give. He chose to be patient, to watch and wait, and allow his opponent to make the first mistake.

Eve smiled. He remembered his training well.

Just as quickly as it'd begun, the exchange - or lack thereof - came to an abrupt end as Collins dropped in between the boys, having flung himself off a perch attached to the ship. He landed with grace, making everyone murmur in awe while Murphy took a step back, startled by how high Collins had fallen.

Collins faced Murphy with a firm expression. "Kids got one leg," he said, shrugging over to Wells. "How about you wait until it's a fair fight?"

Murphy shifted his weight as he was stared down. He glanced past Collins's shoulder, seemingly weighing his options, but Eve could see the struggle. It was one thing to fight someone from Alpha Station and another if Murphy started fighting one of his own people. He'd risk losing favor with the others. Luckily, he didn't need to think much longer as Octavia approached Collins with a coy remark, distracting everyone's attention and allowing Murphy to walk away, his posse following close behind.

The tension lifted, and the audience scattered, their disappointed murmurs filling the air. Eve watched as Clarke approached Wells with one of her doctorly frowns and ordered him to sit down. Bellamy and his sister were still lingering nearby, talking to each other about something that was clearly upsetting Octavia as she shrugged her arm from his grasp.

"Doesn't take long for them to start measuring dicks, does it?" Monroe commented, her gaze following Murphy and his gang as they turned the corner and disappeared behind the ship.

Eve smiled. "A whole hour, if you can believe it. Just surprised anyone actually did something about it."

 _Collins, out of all people._

"I was hopin' they'd get in a few throws. My money was on the Chancellor." Eve turned to her with a quizzical look. Monroe shrugged. "Well, if I _had_ any."

"Is that why you stopped me? To get your 'money's' worth?"

"Nah," she drawled. "Just figured it'd be a shame to watch that pretty face get busted. You might need it later."

"Oh, really?" Eve folded her arms across her chest. "And why is that?"

"How many girls you see out here?" Monroe gestured toward the scattering people. Eve glanced, knowing the men outnumbered the girls by five to one. "Yeah, the guys'll be running this shit in no time…and they like pretty faces."

Eve scoffed. "Know what else they like?" she said, leaning in. "Their balls attached." An amused smiled stretched across Monroe's freckled face. "So, no. No one's taking advantage of anyone. Not under my watch."

"If you say so, boss." Monroe shrugged.

Shaking her head, Eve turned back to the dropship. She'd meant what she said. Even though the Ark wasn't around, it didn't mean they would all resort to savagery. At least...not most of them.

Clarke was now tending to Wells's ankle while the siblings had distanced themselves, standing further behind the ship. But where the _hell_ was Charlotte? Eve cursed under her breath. She didn't have the time or luxury to go searching for her. Not right now.

"You know," Monroe's raspy voice appeared again. "If you're trying to pretend that you're not a guard, you're doing a shit job."

Eve's eyes widened to the size of the moon, feeling her stomach drop. She slowly turned to face the brash, green-eyed girl that'd suddenly become a problem.

"A _guard_?" she asked in disbelief. " _Me_? That's insane."

Monroe laughed. "Right. And you suck at lying." Her eyebrows furrowed curiously up at her. "You don't remember me, do you?"

Eve's mind rushed with memories and thoughts, trying to connect whatever dots Monroe implied but she couldn't, and the only reasonable assumption was that Eve had been the one to arrest her.

Had she? She didn't remember…and she remembered everyone she'd ever arrested.

"Nah," Monroe answered her thoughts. "You wouldn't. Too busy keeping everyone in line to remember some girl stealing rations from a culinary station on Mecha."

Like a light turning on, the memory appeared as clear as day and suddenly, Eve did recognize her. The deep green eyes belonged to a little girl she came across a few years ago after Eve had been promoted to Major. During a busy day at the distribution center, people were huddled around the provision pods, waiting to receive rations, when Monroe took the liberty to use them as cover to sneak into a pod and help herself to a food dispenser. She had the tools and the time, and if it hadn't been for Eve's last-minute decision to alter the patrol routes, the little sneak would've run off with a month's worth of food. Eve arrested her and threatened to take her to the floating chamber. Monroe cried so much, she hadn't realized she been brought back to the housing units instead.

"You let me go," Monroe added.

"I did." Eve nodded slowly, remembering the shock on her tear-stung face when she ordered her to go home. "I also told you to stay out of trouble."

Monroe laughed again and then shrugged. "Can't help myself, I guess." Glancing over at Clarke and Wells, "try not to stand around like you own the place," she said. "Really gives it away."

As she sauntered away, Eve sighed, her shoulders hunching forward. That was the fifth person to know her identity. At this rate, she'd be dead within the next few days. Eve cursed under her breath. "Hey!" Monroe stopped and looked over her shoulder. "I need a favor," she grumbled.

Monroe's eyes lit up, and she happily trotted back. "What's in it for me?" she asked, intrigued.

Eve snickered, beginning to understand how she'd ended up in Nygel's circle. "I'll owe you one."

A look contemplation crossed Monroe's face, her eyes squinted and lips pursed. After a long moment, she nodded. "All right. Whaddya need?"

"I need to find someone. And because of my lack of stealth that you so eagerly pointed out, I could really use your help."

"Who is it? What'd they look like?"

"Her name's Charlotte. Twelve years old. About this tall." Eve raised her hand to her chest. "Has blond hair with braids. If you see her and I'm not around, keep her out of trouble."

"You trust me to do that?" She smirked.

Eve shot her a deadpanned look. "Can you do it or not?"

"Yeah, jeez," Monroe answered, holding her hands up in surrender. "I can do that."

"Thanks." Eve extended her hand. "I'm Marie, by the way."

Monroe looked at her hand for a moment before shaking it. "Figured you were since you were ready to beat the living shit out of Murphy."

Eve smirked. "If only."

Seeing Bellamy and Octavia still at a distance Eve kept her head low as she walked across the small field towards a dirt patch where Clarke and Wells had regrouped. Wells sat on the ground with one leg stretched while Clarke hovered over it, rolling his injured ankle to assess the damage.

Clarke greeted her with a scowl. "I called you. Twice! Where were you?"

Eve turned back towards the Blakes who were conversing in a low voice a few meters away.

"I had it under control," Wells insisted, earning a doubtful look from both girls. "I did," he grumbled.

"I know, I'm sorry," Eve responded to Clarke's question as she glanced over her shoulder to make sure the siblings were still at a distance.

"What is it?" Clarke whispered.

Eve looked around. The only concern was a small group huddled a couple meters behind Clarke, but they seemed too engulfed with their own conversation to be eavesdropping.

Crouching, Eve gave Wells a quick glance before looking at Clarke with a wary expression. "We have a problem...the Blakes know who I am."

The blonde looked over at the two.

"So?" Wells uttered.

Eve pursed her lips. Out of all people, he should've understood why it was a problem considering he was already attacked for being one of the _privileged_. What'd he think would happen if they found a guard in their midst?

"So," she continued, not hiding the annoyance in her tone. "If they share that information with the rest of the class, then I'm going to end up with more than just a sprained ankle. And I can't do my job if I have to keep looking over my shoulder every second for someone that wants payback."

"But you're not a guard anymore."

"They won't care," Clarke interjected, her gaze dropping to Wells's ankle, remembering how quickly the crowd had turned on them. Sighing, she nodded. "OK, we'll avoid them for as long as we can until we find a way to contact the Ark and then-"

"So, Mount Weather, when do we leave?" Collins appeared out of nowhere, his hands in the pockets of his green-blue aviator jacket.

Clarke looked back at Eve, silently promising to continue the conversation at a later time before standing. "Right now," she answered and turned back to Wells. "We'll be back tomorrow with food."

Wells stared at them with a doubtful expression, his gaze lingering on Collins for a moment. "How are the three of you gonna carry enough food for a hundred?"

Collins stepped away.

"I'll stay with Wells," Eve assured, only to earn another scowl from Clark before Collins returned with two young men under either shoulder.

The boy to his right was a taller, scrawny fellow with brown, shaggy hair rumpled under a pair of sizeable black safety goggles situated around his forehead, while the one to his left was an older boy of the same height with black, _kept_ shaggy hair and softer facial features. He held a blade of grass between his fingers as he grazed it across his nostrils. She recognized the first as Jasper Jordan and the second as…Monty Green.

"Five of us. Now can we go?" Collins asked impatiently.

"Wait." The three boys frowned as Clarke turned back to Eve with a worried look. "We need you," she whispered.

"Sounds like a party. Make that six."

 _Oh, fuck._

Eve spun away, holding her arm inconspicuously over her face as Octavia gleefully approached their newfound group followed by her protective older brother.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Bellamy demanded.

"Going for a walk," Octavia sneered, shrugging his hand from her shoulder.

As they proceeded to argue, Wells watched them closely before leaning towards Eve, his voice a subtle whisper. "You need to go with them."

She shook her head, Clarke's voice loud in the background as she scolded Spacewalker for trying to remove his wristband. "You're injured. I won't leave you here alone while everyone is pining for your head."

"I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. You know that."

"Really? Because Murphy took you down pretty quick. Since when do you let people get into your space?"

Well sighed. "He caught me off guard."

"You know better," she chided. "I taught you better."

"I know," he admitted with downcast eyes before looking up at her with pleading ones. "But can you please go with them? I don't want to see her get hurt."

"OK. Now let's go," Clarke ordered the group, watching each of them trod off into the right direction before turning back to Eve. "Are you coming?"

Wells continued to stare, resembling a sad child as he silently pleaded. He didn't know it, but he was putting her in an awkward position. Her orders were to protect them both, but if there were a choice, it'd be the Chancellor's son that'd need to be placed above all…but against her better judgment, she sighed, unable to believe she was giving in to puppy dog eyes.

"You better be in one piece when I get back," she warned, pointing a finger at him.

"I promise." He smiled.

Eve gave him one last annoyed look before standing and stepping over him. She would've helped him up, but Bellamy was still close, and it wouldn't take him much to recognize her. Fortunately, he was preoccupied on other things. Walking off alongside Clarke, she could feel Bellamy's gaze dig into her back as he watched his little sister walk off into the woods with five complete strangers.

Octavia remained a few feet behind the chatting boys, blissful and oblivious to everything around her while Clarke and Eve walked at a slow pace behind them.

Waiting for a moment to be at a safe distance to talk, Eve whispered over to Clarke, "best way to do this is for both of us to be upfront. Stay five meters behind me and keep the others on track. I'll clear the area as we go."

Clarke stared at the uncharted forest. "Do you really think something could've survived the radiation after all this time?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Eve shrugged. "Either way, it's twenty miles into unknown terrain without food or water and with four other teenagers that haven't seen the outside of a cell in a long time…so let's just say I'm not in the mood for any surprises."

Clarke pursed her lips and nodded in affirmation. Picking up her pace, she headed to the front of the group, only to be slowed down by Octavia. As the girls briefly spoke, Eve made her way past them to find a reasonable distance in the lead, wanting to be the first to see or come across anything in their path. Feeling the weight of the handgun and the knife clanking subtly inside her boot, she was ready to make the journey to Mount Weather.

And maybe by the time she returned, the earth would have cracked open and swallowed Bellamy Blake whole. Otherwise...she didn't know what the hell she was going to do.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 5

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	6. Chapter 6

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	7. Chapter 7

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	8. Chapter 8

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	9. Chapter 9

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	10. Chapter 10

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